


Get out of My School

by dramaticbanjo



Category: Inazuma Eleven GO
Genre: M/M, yeah thats about right, you know that post about someone just giving their crush the note that says 'get out of my school'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 23:18:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17590289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramaticbanjo/pseuds/dramaticbanjo
Summary: Zanark is capable of dealing with his emotions like a responsible person. Really. He can. He just chooses not to.





	Get out of My School

“Have you been avoiding me?”

            “You made me spill my drink!”

Nishiki ignored Zanark’s apparent outrage, instead staring him down with furrowed brows. The time traveler scowled back at him, letting the spilled juice drip down the front of his jersey.

Now, Nishiki Ryouma wasn’t one to get angry very often—he was hot blooded, yes, and was often the first one to yell encouragement, but he was more likely to get angry at himself rather than place the blame on someone else. That included Zanark, even though the former criminal took a special sort of pride in being as insufferable as possible.

After a moment, Zanark made a sort of snort, and looked away to glower at the crushed cup in his hand, the last remnants of the juice running over his fingers. Nishiki’s expression shifted subtly from being _angry_ , to the expression someone would get when dealing with a particularly stubborn child, “Zanark.”

            “Ryouma.”

            “Have you been avoiding me?”

            “No.” He sounded petulant, turning on his heel to reach out and drop the crushed cup into the trashcan. Besides them, the Raimon clubroom was empty—everyone else had trickled out to the fields outside, leaving them alone.

            “Really.” Nishiki knew that he wasn’t the fastest of the team, mentally speaking, as Midori often reprimanded him about, but even he could pick up when Zanark constantly left the room, stood on the opposite side of the meeting room during the review sessions, and even grabbed _Shinsuke_ for a practice partner. Then again, Zanark was about as subtle as his beloved storm, and that was on a good day.

            Another minute of staring at Zanark’s back, before the striker gave in and let out an aggravated sigh, “…It’s stupid.” He ground out, sounding more like a young child than ever.

            “What’s stupid?”

            “Nothing.” There was another small glaring contest, Zanark’s massive braids slipping down to his back as he looked over his shoulder. Finally, Nishiki reached over and with one swift yank, pulled on one of Zanark’s many braids. The forward yelped, stumbling backwards, “What the hell was that for?!”

            “What’s gotten into you?!” Nishiki shot back, watching Zanark spring a step away, rubbing his head where the braid had been pulled, “This isn’t like you at all!”

            “Too bad!”

            “What’s too bad? Why’re you acting like this?” Nishiki raised a hand in a nonverbal threat to yank another braid, “You can tell me!”

            “Oh, no, I can’t!”

Another glaring contest between them that got absolutely nowhere, and they both let out an aggravated breath at the other.

            “…Do you hate me, Zanark?” The question caught Zanark off guard, and he almost choked on his own spit. Nishiki waited for him to stop coughing, hands on his hips, “Do you?”

            “Now that’s stupid!” The other boy said loudly, although Zanark only had one volume setting to his voice to begin with. Seemingly forgetting about what they had been arguing about, and Nishiki’s previous threat to his mane of hair, he stepped forward so he and Nishiki were practically chest-to-chest. Grabbing a fistful of Nishiki’s jersey, Zanark pulled him forward, almost hitting their noses together, “That’s just stupid!”

            “Huh?” Nishiki managed to reply dumbly, blinking at the unexpected turn of events.

            “I _like_ you, stupid!”


End file.
